


What you need baby I got it

by ImagineYourself



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, John's bad parenting is the cause, M/M, Praise Kink, Submissive Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1768450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just like every year before, it's the first year of high school and John isn't there to see Sam get his award for being a fantastic student despite all the moving around and crap he's had to put up with. Dean just wants to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What you need baby I got it

**Author's Note:**

> For the longest time I couldn't get smut out, and now all I can write seems to be smut. At least it's something. Also I'm sorry for the title, I could literally think of nothing and I didn't care enough.

It was a Thursday night and Dean watched Sam stand up on stage, lights making him glow along with the grin on his face, when his name was called. Dean clapped louder than anyone else as Sam received his award, smiling wide in the middle of the crowd. It was the day before Dean's birthday and they were at school for Sam's reward of excellence for his first semester of high school. It was nothing but a little medal on a lame ribbon, but Dean was happy to see his brother slip it around his neck, a reminder of all the hard work he'd done despite starting the semester halfway through when they'd temporarily moved to this little town.

Sam had been fervently hoping that John would attend the ceremony, but he hadn't made it, even though he had said he'd try when he left for another job a week before. Dean knew Sam would be disappointed when it was over and he realized his father hadn't come, but for that moment, Dean just cheered for his brother and gave him a moment of happy respite.

"Wow, look at you, Sammy," Dean said with a whistle and a shit eating grin as his brother walked off the stage and found him waiting in the lobby of the little auditorium. "All decked out with awards and shit." He bumped into Sam's shoulder and got a laugh from him before the boy started looking around.

"Is Dad here? Did he come?" he asked hopefully.

Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sorry kid." Sam glanced at him with a look that said he was about two seconds from calling shit, but he didn't as he saw Dean's expression.

Abruptly, Sam's face fell and he turned away, shrugging off Dean's hand. "Whatever. Guess I should've expected it, huh?" he muttered bitterly. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam told him, "Let's just go."

Sam was silent and brooding the whole drive back to the shoddy motel they were staying in and Dean didn't try to talk to him. Once they got inside from the freezing January night, Sam slumped into a chair at the table and Dean glanced around the kitchen. Most of the time, when Sam got like this Dean could crack him with a few bad jokes and reassurance that even if their dad wasn't there, Dean always would be. But this seemed like one funk where Dean would have to wait for his brother to get over it himself.

"Hungry?" Dean asked into the tense silence of the room. Sam just answered with a one-shouldered shrug and Dean busied himself putting together a couple of PB&J's. He cut Sam's into four triangles like he used to when Sam was young and slid the plate in front of the boy, taking the seat next to him with his own sandwich.

The younger brother stared at the food for a long moment before picking up a piece. He made it through three triangles before the first tear rolled silently down his cheek. He sniffled a bit and Dean pushed his own plate away before moving his chair to face Sam, reaching out to brush his knuckles against his cheek. Sam turned his head away but Dean caught him with his other hand, cupping his face gently.

"Hey, look at me," Dean said softly. "He's a bastard and an idiot and we both know that."

"He said he'd be there," Sam whispered, his eyes bright with more unshed tears.

"I know, Sam." He didn't say how many times John had said that before and how many times he had lied.

A sob broke from Sam's chest and he dropped his eyes, letting those tears slide down his face to be brushed away by Dean's thumbs. The elder brother moved his hands to card through Sam's hair and coax him into moving by tugging on his waist. Without complaint, Sam clambered onto Dean's lap and buried his face in his brother's neck, snuffling and getting the collar of Dean's shirt wet. He didn't mind though, content to wrap his arms around his little brother and hold him as he cried.

It wasn't a very "brotherly" position though, but then again much of what the two had gotten up to recently wasn't. This... _thing_ between them wasn't exactly new, it seemed as though it had always been there, but what it had evolved into was decisively less platonic than it had been growing up. To a point, Dean felt bad about it, guilty like he was taking something away from his brother. He knew no one could ever find out, that was for sure. But at least while he had Sam in his arms, he could think about consequences later.

They stayed like that for a long time until Sam's sniffling had quieted and he slid off of Dean to go blow his nose. The slumped way he shuffled to the bathroom shouldn't have looked cute to Dean, but it did, even though he was also mad at their father for causing this. While Sam was gone, Dean cleared up the kitchen a bit and changed into pajamas, sitting on the edge of one bed to wait.

When Sam emerged, Dean beckoned him over, taking in his red rimmed eyes and slow, tired walk. He helped his brother out of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the floor. He unbuttoned Sam's jeans, silent all the while even as he got Sam to step out of them. Gently, he tugged Sam to lay beside him on the bed, reaching over him to turn off the lamp. Sam snuggled close to his body, and Dean kissed his forehead. He ducked down and left barely there presses of his lips on Sam's closed eyes, his nose, cheeks, and his mouth.

"What're you doing, Dean?" Sam mumbled.

"Trust me?" Dean's question felt heavy in the quiet darkness.

But Sam just replied, "Yeah." With light touches, Dean got Sam to lay on his back, and even respond a little to Dean's kisses. Migrating to Sam's jaw and neck, the older boy whispered slow words as he worked.

"So proud of you," Dean told him with a kiss to his pulse point. "Looked so good on that stage." He trailed his lips down to Sam's collarbone, tongue flicking out to lick it. "You deserve to feel good, wanna make you feel good, Sammy."

Sam jerked up a little at the nickname, his hands tightening their grip where they rested on his brother's shoulders. "Dean..." he choked out when teeth bit into his chest above his heart, the spot soothed over a moment later by a smooth tongue.

Dean's lips closed around a nipple and he felt Sam shudder beneath him. His hands, which had been absently roving over his brother's hips, now hooked in the boy's boxers, pulling them down and off, repositioning himself between Sam's legs once he was naked, panting and writhing, his hard little cock twitching against his stomach. Dean kissed his way up his little brother's thigh, skirting right around his dick and licking the dip of his hipbone.

"Dean!" Sam whined, reaching down to touch himself.

Dean caught his hands, twisting their fingers together, and talked in a low, husky voice. "So pretty like this. Needy and hard. Don't worry, I know what you need baby boy." Sam let out a keening moan, canting his hips up, searching. Dean let his lips stretch into a smile before licking a long stripe up the bottom of his brother's cock. He flicked his tongue under the head and suckled it into his mouth, his hands held in a vice grip like he was Sam's only lifeline.

The younger boy was gyrating his hips, shallowly thrusting into the wet heat of Dean's mouth. Dean just took it all in stride, alternating sucking and bobbing his head, tongue languidly pressing up against the hard length. If Sam was coherent enough, Dean was sure he'd be embarrassed at how quickly he came into Dean's mouth, crying out loud and tensing his whole body as he shook through orgasm. As it was, he was nowhere near coherent and collapsed into a weak lump as he slid from his older brother's lips.

Dean moved back up his body, freeing his hands to let one cup Sam's jaw as he kissed him tenderly. The other moved quickly under his waistband and with a few quick strokes he was coming, too, falling boneless next to Sam as he came down. A minute passed and Sam seemed to be right on the brink of sleep, so Dean put him back in his boxers, cleaned himself off, and tucked his little brother into his side. The pair's arms fit instinctively around each other.

“Sleep, Sammy. I've got you,” Dean whispered into the younger boy's floppy hair.

He thought he heard Sam mumble, “I know,” before dropping off to sleep, but it might have just been a trick of his imagination.


End file.
